A slippery Slope

It's official: I prefer another year in Park Slope to another month spent on Craigslist. Sheer proximity to the Food Co-op is going to push all my political opinions further and further to the right, until the Vlaams Belang starts to look, from my vantage point, like one giant kibbutz. I have only so much energy to be directed towards research, and would rather it go towards ye olde French-Jewish newspapers at the New York Public Library than to the quest for a probably non-existent dishwasher apartment in a less self-righteous neighborhood. (Note to the less inert: Astoria seems lovely. Oh well.)

Or who knows. Perhaps, in a year's time, I'll be wearing Crocs and a canvas tote covered in slogans about how much I care about not using plastic bags, pushing a stroller filled with triplets, each of whom sports a shirt declaring her or his support for a different Democratic politician.